


Administration

by QuizzicalQuinnia



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Euron is a dick, F/M, J/B Board Anniversary!, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-18
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-04-04 23:00:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4156212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuizzicalQuinnia/pseuds/QuizzicalQuinnia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brienne really likes her massive work desk and the man-sized space underneath it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Administration

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ikkiM](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikkiM/gifts).



> For the J/B Board One-Year Anniversary, and for Mikki/ikkiM without whom we shippers would be internet homeless! With only shaggy blue tents in the shantytown of Tumblr, fighting to near death for scraps of love!
> 
> Thanks to JustAGirl24 for the insta-beta!

* * *

 

“Yes, of course that’s possible. We’ll revise the quote and have it back within the week.”

Brienne dropped the phone’s receiver into its cradle with too much force. She hoped the client on the other end of the line hadn’t heard, but she was struggling to maintain any sort of muscle control. It was a miracle her voice hadn’t shaken with every word.

She sucked in a breath, ready to chastise or possibly moan. She wasn’t sure.

“No more phone calls,” Jaime mumbled.

“Fine.” She let her head fall back to the top of her chair.

“Happy anniversary.” His words floated over her skin.

“Shut up.”

“No.”

“Fine,” she gave in. “Happy anniversary.”

He lifted his head again. “You don’t sound like you mean it, but I know you do.”

“I mean it.” She really did, even though she had no idea how she’d ended up dating him for an entire year.

He flattened his tongue and licked her, a long, slow swipe of his tongue, the way that drove her insane, chuckling against her skin all the while.

“You sure we have time?” His green eyes flashed as he glanced up at her face.

“The whole lunch hour. Pod will keep people out.”

He licked her again and sighed. “Pod knows, Tyrion knows…everybody knows. Why aren’t we just telling people about us for real?”

“You know why.” She threaded her fingers through his hair and tugged.

“Does it really matter that your father will hate me and my father will hate you?” He stuck out his lower lip in a fake pout that made her want to bite that lip.

She hadn’t thought their fathers' opinions would matter. She hadn’t thought they’d be together that long. Her nerves were beginning to show as she thought about it. “I…I suppose we could tell them. After we find somewhere to hide.”

He stopped stroking her and stared intensely. “We can? Really?”

She could only nod and tried to stifle a goofy smile at the way he was looking at her.

“Good.” He kissed her bare thigh. “Now sit back. I’m going to thank you properly.”

Her intercom buzzed. She ignored it. Her monitor lit up with an incoming chat notification. She ignored it. A knock sounded on her office door.

Pod’s voice filtered through, low and apologetic. “The Greyjoys are here, Ms. Tarth.”

She grimaced at the audacity of her idiot clients. Instead of raising her voice to answer, she buzzed the intercom and waited for Pod to return to his desk right outside.

She growled just a little, low in her throat and for several different reasons. She couldn’t see the Greyjoys right away, but they were the type to cancel their whole account if they had to wait more than ten minutes. She hoped she only needed five to collect herself, and she was grateful for once that Jaime had convinced her to get the far-too-enormous mahogany desk. She could hide behind it nicely.

“I’m so sorry, Ms. Tarth. They’re…” Pod’s tone barely disguised his irritation, clearly having no desire to interrupt Brienne’s lunch hour, but knowing he couldn’t ask the clients to wait.  

“Give me till half past and show them in, Pod. Thank you.”

“Will do. And happy anniversary.”

She could almost hear Pod’s smile. She looked down toward the space under the desk, seeing only a sliver of her freckled skin. There were so many things she’d rather do than appease clients. “Jaime, get up—”

The door swung open.

“No, we will not wait. What do you think, we have nothing better to do?” Euron Greyjoy barged into her office, barreling straight past Pod who plastered himself to her door to avoid injury.

Asha Greyjoy followed with a matching grimace. Pod’s cherubic face wasn’t accompanied by his usual friendly smile. He mouthed _sorry_ and crinkled his nose. She nodded as he shut the door behind him.

Brienne stared at the two annoyances, distracting herself from Jaime’s hands on her legs as he remained still and silent under the desk. She didn't have even a few seconds to figure out what to do, how to conceal her predicament and keep her clients throughout this totally unnecessary meeting. She felt rather than heard the chuckle against her inner thigh.

Euron sat in one of the client chairs across from Brienne. Asha took the other. Brienne wondered how Asha managed not to boil to death wearing so much leather in the summer.

She adopted an emergency smile of professional platitude. “I was about to leave the office, so I’m glad I caught you.” _Thanks for completely ignoring all scheduling in favor of narcissism._

Asha Greyjoy raised a brow, but remained silent. They understood one another somehow, and Brienne knew that Asha was the real power behind Greyjoy Enterprises, managing damage control for Euron’s absurd acquisitions and abrasive employee treatment.

“What is the status of the Deepwood holdings?” Euron nearly bellowed. “I want that cleared and ready to incorporate.”

She’d sent the company an update not two days before, but the family wasn’t exactly patient. Goosebumps rose on her thighs as a warning of Jaime’s even closer proximity, but she forced herself to ignore it.

“As I included in my report, the Iron Bank has yet to clear the Deepwood complex from foreclosure. Until they accept and finalize your offer, the title cannot be transferred to—ah!”

Brienne instantly summoned every ounce of self-control, folding her hands together on the desk as her fingers clenched over one another. She knew her eyes were wide but could do nothing about that.

Other than murder Jaime later. His finger stroked her where she most wanted him to and absolutely knew he shouldn’t. Not then! With _people_ there. Her lunch hour had proven a bust, but Jaime had too much devil in him to care.

“What was that?” Euron snarled, sensing her distraction.

She cleared her throat, struggling more by the second to ignore Jaime’s stroking finger. “I’m so sorry. It’s a…shin splint. Too much running I think.” She reached down to mimic rubbing her leg for a few seconds, instead slapping Jaime soundly on the back of his bent head. She took solace in the idea that he couldn’t be comfortable with his long limbs folded up beneath the desk.

A slight huff floated up between her legs.

Asha nodded appreciatively. “No pain, no gain.”

“Yes, exactly. Now, about the foreclosure…” Brienne moved her gaze to Euron, signaling him to continue with his useless litany of demands no one could fulfill.

The finger withdrew, then returned with another in tow. Jaime’s fingers were just like the rest of him, long and strong and physically talented. If only Pod had interrupted two minutes earlier. If only Jaime hadn’t already flashed a wicked grin and crawled under her desk despite her objections about its absurdity. If only she hadn’t given in to his morning plea and worn an uncharacteristic skirt. If only that skirt hadn’t already been hiked up to her hips and her white cotton panties been slowly peeled off her long legs and tucked into a suit pocket.

She could just catch sight of his fingers if she looked down. She focused on Euron’s face instead. He looked like a biker trying to be a pirate trying to be a business magnate. He squinted with one eye. His jaw was too pronounced. The man was completely unattractive, and looking at him only made her compare him to Jaime, and any thought of Jaime turned into a thought of Jaime naked. This didn’t help her at all as she forced herself not to squirm in her ergonomic chair.

Jaime’s breath floated over her skin. Yes, she was definitely going to kill him for this.

“Can’t you force the Iron Bank to prioritize this?” Euron demanded.

One of Jaime’s fingers slid inside her. She thought of his cock and grew wetter.

“I will speak to their foreclosure representative again, but…it’s unlikely that…they’ll hasten the proceedings.” Her voice was almost too raw to conceal now.

Asha tilted her head. “Muscle spasms?”

Brienne nodded almost gratefully. “You could say that.”

Asha’s lips twisted up into a sort of sly smile. “And I guess it’s cold in here, though I wouldn’t know.”

Brienne saw Euron’s gaze shift immediately to her chest. She didn’t have to look to know that her nipples stood at attention from Jaime’s ministrations. She nodded again. “New air conditioning system.”

Jaime chose that moment to curl his finger just so and drag his tongue over her. She twitched and let the sensation crawl up her spine in the guise of a chill.

Asha smacked Euron on the arm, and the lewd man finally tore his gaze away.

Euron snarled. “I don’t know what we’re paying you for if you can’t get anything done.”

While Brienne didn’t _need_ the Greyjoys as clients, she didn’t want to sever any connection to the Iron Islands businesses. She was excellent at her job, but she was typically quiet and more behind-the-scenes about it. It worked for her. She only felt truly powerful and comfortable in her skin when she worked out, mostly with Jaime, and had sex, only with Jaime. 

She felt powerful then, too far gone for the embarrassment to linger. She was practically half naked with her bare skin perched on her office chair, her long legs battling Jaime’s body beneath her desk, and his mouth working her into a frenzy. She leaned forward, both to loom over Euron and to force Jaime’s finger to hit that one spot inside her cunt.

She sucked in a breath as her elbows supported her on the desk. “Mr. Greyjoy, you are paying me to handle annoying and tedious brokerage tasks that are beyond the scope of your company’s abilities. Should you leave this firm for another, you will not only find that the Iron Bank’s answer will remain the same, you will also push proceedings even further down the timeline. I don’t think that’s in your best interests.”

Euron harrumphed. Asha stared at her with an analytical gleam in her eye.

Brienne sat back, letting her legs fall open to give Jaime better access. He lapped at her like he hadn’t eaten in days. She was sure the silence would betray the sound of his lips and tongue.

Asha rose, and Brienne had only a split second to push herself further under the desk, concealing Jaime’s head and her nakedness.

“I think we’re done here.” Asha smirked before nodding at Euron. “Come on, Uncle. I told you the bully tactic wouldn’t work with her.”

Brienne wanted to sigh in relief but refrained, pressing the intercom button instead. “Pod, please show the Greyjoys out.”

“I’ll have someone call you tomorrow for an update,” Euron barked.

“You do that.” Brienne stared at him with steel in her eyes.

Pod stood outside of the door, careful to avoid Euron’s retreating form. “If you’ll just follow me…” He gestured vaguely in the direction of the elevator before walking with a fearful clip ahead of Euron.

Asha glanced back once before joining them. “You know, I heard rumors for a long time now you were having a _thing_ with Jaime Lannister and keeping it quiet. I thought to myself, nah, can’t be. Brienne Tarth is too savvy for that. But I’ll give it to you, he’s a beauty. And apparently _talented_.” She waggled her brows and adopted a lascivious smirk. “If you want to _keep_ it quiet, maybe don’t have him fuck you with his mouth during work hours.”

Brienne’s mouth hung open as Asha sauntered away, and it was still open while Jaime stopped licking her for a moment to laugh out loud. He started in again because they were both beyond hope of stopping, but still she stared at the open door, unwilling to move as her body wavered between overwhelming lust and weighty mortification.

Pod soon returned and seemed to notice that she was flooded with a crimson blush. Jaime had the sense at least to pause and wait in silence.

“Are you all right, Ms. Tarth?”

Brienne nodded jerkily. “Yes, Pod, thank you. I’m just…I didn’t sleep last night, and I think I need a quick nap before the next round of meetings.”

“Of course. Should I close the blinds?” Pod waited, apparently clueless about Jaime’s presence.

“Just the front ones. I’ll take care of the back. And I don’t want to be disturbed for an hour.”

Pod nodded and smiled, shutting the door behind him after closing the blinds to prying eyes.

Brienne pushed herself back from the desk, her chair nearly hitting the wall. She moved to lock the door, kicking her shoes off. When she turned back around, Jaime had cleared any loose items from the middle of her desk and was leaning over it braced on his fists. His lips were wet with her. She could feel the singe of his gaze on her heated skin.

“I’m going to kill you,” she growled.

“Is that a euphemism?” His voice was raw and deep.

She didn’t know why she even bothered anymore. “Probably.”

“Come here,” he demanded.

She circled the desk and faced him. With his shoes on and hers off, they were the same height. He licked what was left of her from his lips as he stripped off his suit jacket and tie, the motions slow and maddening. He always knew what he did to her.

“You embarrassed me,” she accused, just wanting him to fuck her so she could dig her nails into his back.

“You knew I was coming over.”

“You were early.” It was a losing battle, she knew.

“So were they. Not my fault. Besides…” he stepped closer to her, so close her hard nipples grazed his crisp white shirt. “You liked it. You were getting off on it. I know.” He leaned in just enough for his lips to brush hers. “I tasted it.”

She waited. He wanted to win and make her beg and make her claim his mouth with her tongue and fumble for his hard cock. But she waited. She wanted to win this time.

She counted to eight before he inhaled so deeply the muscles of his stomach coiled against hers. He wrapped one hand around the back of her neck and took her mouth in his particular way that made her feel wanted above everything in the world. His tongue worked with hers as she kissed him back, drinking him in, filling herself with his scent. She wound one hand through his hair and snaked the other under his shirt to feel his smooth skin.

She could barely breathe anymore when he ripped himself from her lips only to graze the soft skin behind her ear, along her neck, her shoulder, her throat. He worked at the zipper of her skirt until it fell to the carpet, leaving her naked except for her blue blouse. He ripped that, so he could see her breasts and latch his mouth to them, one then the other.

She wanted to scream at him for ruining yet another piece of her clothing. She liked that blouse. It was hard enough to find something that fit and didn’t make her look ridiculous, but then she saw his pupils blown wide as he sucked on a nipple, and the blouse didn’t matter. She was always so overwhelmed by her want for him, for his body, but even more for the look in his eye when he stared at her. Those eyes sought hers as he ran his tongue over her breast, and the look was there, like he wanted to consume her but also like he loved her, because she knew he did.

So it didn’t matter that he’d ruined her blouse or embarrassed her, or was the most vexing person she’d ever known. He wanted her enough that he’d asked her to wear a skirt just so he could go down on her during lunch. He hadn’t wanted to wait until they got home, even though he’d had her just that morning.

She yanked his dress shirt open and watched as the buttons flew off, immediately pressing her naked breasts against his skin and kissing him deeply. His movements grew less controlled as he turned her so her bare ass met the desk, lifting her with strong hands until she sat on it. She was in a frenzy as she clumsily unfastened his belt and then the buttons of his expensive trousers until she could push them down his thighs. She started to bend down to kiss the tip of his cock, but he stopped her with a finger under her chin. He shook his head with a hint of desperation, and she understood. They did enough of that and would again, but there was nothing better than the feel of him inside her.

She leaned back on her elbows though she knew they’d give way as soon as he entered her. He didn’t smirk or grin. It was too late for that. She could always tell how ready he was by the absence of his smirk. He brought the two fingers that had been inside her to his lips, and sucked on them before dragging them along her slit to make sure she was ready. She’d been ready the whole day, damn him. He fingered her clit and she kicked him in the side.

His eyes were almost all black with only a thin rim of glowing green, his lips were parted, and his chest heaved. He stepped between her spread legs until the edge of the desk dug into his thighs. She wrapped her legs around him tightly, drawing him closer still until she could feel the tip of his cock. Her head sank back, her eyes half closed.

He pressed in, teasing her, but she knew it wouldn’t last. She blindly reached for his hand, pressing it hard against her breast. He slammed into her like she knew he would. The groan was his, low and rough with relief. The whispered name was his, exhaled from her lungs in waves with each breath she managed to suck in.

He leaned over her, thrusting with all the strength in his legs. He knew she could take it. She wrapped her arms around his neck, around his shoulders, digging her fingers into his flesh. Her calf pressed into his ass. She clenched her body around him as he drove into her, powerfully, and she was powerful herself and she was wanted.

He bit her nipple, the side of her neck. He stretched her back on the desk and set his weight on her, skin to skin so every movement that brought him more inside her scraped their flesh together. There would be marks later. She never minded looking in the mirror when she was covered in his marks.

He moved faster. She held him against her with every muscle, and she was so close. He breathed into her neck until she bit his earlobe and kissed his cheek, and then he thrust his tongue into her mouth to match the rhythm of his cock. He hit that spot inside her cunt just as he bit her lower lip. She jerked wildly and tasted blood as the backs of her eyelids went red then white, and she arched her body from the desk. She felt dangerous, incendiary as she shattered with his body surrounding her, in her, everywhere.

She collapsed, feeling the waves of wet and warmth inside that meant he’d found himself in her. He was heavy on her, there on the desk as sweat began to dry on their skin. He made no indication of moving, but she found enough strength to wrap her legs more tightly around him so he wouldn’t get up. That was the only bad part, when he slipped out of her and she felt empty until she saw his eyes and knew he’d still want her. He didn’t move.

She kissed him lazily. She decided to take the next day off and have a long weekend. She knew he would do the same if she asked. They hadn’t spent days in bed together for months. Well, more than two days. Every weekend. They would fuck again later, she knew. It almost seemed too long to wait.

He dragged his lips along her jaw, brushing her ear with his nose as he whispered. “Happy anniversary, Brienne.”

She kissed him again and smiled when she felt a slight twitch inside. If she waited just a little longer, he wouldn’t even have to slip out for another round.

“Happy anniversary, Jaime.”

 

 

 


End file.
